Wicked Game
by Sallen
Summary: Our expectations must leave for hell as we are determined by the people of the Capitol. The arena, the place where our blood and tears are to be shed, lies among the lines of the haunting past of the Games and the unsettling future. Just like every year, 24 of us are sent into the Arena, and this year should be no different. But the Gamemakers have been known to deceive.
1. Updated Tribute List

**Wicked Game**

**District 1:**

**Male:** Gavin Jones, 18  
**Female: **Estelle Jinxx, 17

**District 2:**

**Male:** Axel Lynch, 17  
**Female: **Chloris Snyder, 18

**District 3:**

**Male:** Ash Brown, 14  
**Female:** Pixel Rhett, 15

**District 4:**

**Male:** Glade Harrington, 14  
**Female: **Mara Cuan, 16

**District** **5**:

**Male:** James Lando, 15  
**Female:** Kyrie Lowl, 17

**District** **6**:

**Male:** Breyr Blitz, 15  
**Female:** Jana Foster, 16

**District** **7**:

**Male:** Grayson Stones, 15  
**Female: **Sen Ballentine, 18

**District 8:**

**Male: **Tidal Ethans, 15  
**Female:** Kalia Ducain, 18

**District 9:**

**Male: **Aamir Harols, 16  
**Female:** Maeve Teris, 12

**District 10:**

**Male:** Belton Pace, 18  
**Female:** September Rollo, 18

**District 11:**

**Male:** Korace Vici, 16  
**Female:** Zaelynn Summerfeild, 18

**District 12:**

**Male:** Magnus Gentry, 13  
**Female: **Althaia Briggs, 17

* * *

**A/N: Finished! Thank you all who submitted tributes!**

**Have a good day/night!**

**-Sallen**


	2. Pre-Reaping

**Chapter 1: Tributes Part One  
**"A man who won't die for someting is not fit to live." -Martin Luther King Jr.

* * *

**Gavin Jones (D1M, 18)**

Ray gives me a falsely daunting grin, eyeing the room intently as he rummaging for anything that could be of any use for my training. "You ready, man?"

Nodding, I simply roll my eyes, "Ready as I'll ever be."

He shrugs, sneaking a quick look at Aaron. "Two on one, Gav? If you're going to Volunteer, you have better be prepared for an unfair battle."

I scoff, "Even with Aaron, this is a fair battle. You're not the strongest, Ray. Besides, no one will be thinking about fairness when they are killing in that damned Arena, smart one."

Ray seems unamused for only a few seconds before reaching for a dull-edged sword from the Academy's rack. Despite training a tribute ahead of the Games being outlawed, much of the district cares nothing for preventing anyone from it.

"Here, Gav. You may need this." Ray tosses the sword over to me, obtaining his own blade from the rack as he hands a simple knife to Aaron, who gives him a pissed look.

Aaron groans at the selected item, "Why do I get a _knife_?"

Ray chuckles, "Because _I _have the sword. Besides, Gavin needs experience with others carrying basic weapons as well. Not everyone will have the same weapon."

"Will you three just begin already?" asks an impatient Raven, unamused by the fact she had to stand in order to watch my training. "I'm getting bored over here just seeing you guys mess around."

Ray gives her a glare, "Why don't you just come up here then, Raven? Aaron _is _complaining; just take his spot." Aaron complains at this, earning neither of their attention. "You can use the bow."

"No way," I tell him. "What if she gets hurt?"

Raven sighs, "Gavin, the Reaping is in a few minutes. You all blew so much time here, so let's just go."

"How do _you _know what time it is, Raven?" Aaron spits out.

But she only condones him, "You have better win this for me, Gavin."

**Chloris Snyder (D2F, 18)**

A feeling of completion washes over me, hitting me hard as I come to realize I am unable to refuse a grin for him. While a sense of priority knocks into me, I condone the part of me that was convincing enough to do the right thing: stop Bladus before he gets carried away with his soon to be victory.

Watching him knock the blade out of Aemelia's hand neither shocked nor impressed me; I had come to the point where I expected this much from him. Because of Bladus being rather muscular for his age of fifteen, he intimidated many to the point where they declined a training offer from him.

He has only me to thank for this.

As Aemelia scrambles to collect herself from the blow of Bladus, she yelps in surprise to the point of his blade facing her. Aemelia grunts in disgust at the fact she was beaten by a boy three years younger. This only became a typical behavior of my best friend.

Chuckling, I applaud Bladus on his victory, aware of the fact that he will finally make an attempt to volunteer this year.

"Alright, Bladus," I call, letting my hands fall to my side. "The match is over."

Bladus gives a childlike groan as he still points his blade at Aemelia, "But you taught me to _always _finish the job. You said that, didn't you?"

I shrug, making my way over to him. "I taught you to _never _give mercy in the Arena. Home is completely different."

Bladus shakes his head violently, leaving his dark hair a muddle. "Fine. But when I volunteer, I'm going for the most kills."

Aemelia rolls her eyes, picking herself up from the dirt. "Don't just go for the most kills; strive for the bloodiest. Like Chloris, try to be _remembered._"

**James Lando (D5M, 15)**

Seeing the furry animal scurry up the old tree enlightens me, as it clearly has the ability to scourge about the area with little effort needed. Sly and capable of retrieving much food from high above, the squirrel simply has to keep an eye out for its predator as it carries on. Without the disadvantage of relatively low amounts of food, the squirrel has no need to go after a prey of its own.

But in tough times to come, would it be mandatory to attack another squirrel for its desperate need?

When volunteering, I will have to keep these things in mind prior to stepping into the Games. I'll have to kill, or at least attack another tribute, in case I ever am in need of basic supplies or food. Staying quiet can only help for so long.

"Amused, kid?"

My attention dragging after the voice, I gaze up from the tree to come face-to-face with a Peacekeeper of the district. I have never quite been the type to actually care for unnecessary things, such as remembering faces, so I am clueless as to who this may be. The only thing giving away his basic identity to me is his clear white suit and helmet.

"I have to say, I actually _am _relatively entertained at the moment." I tell the older man, disgusted at the fact that a _Peacekeeper _happens to be wasting my free time.

The man only takes a few steps before me, intentionally meaning this to be an act of intimidation to a citizen of District 5. However I remain level-headed, as the Reaping is only minutes away, which means the Peacekeepers are to report to the Justice Building immediately.

The Peacekeeper gives a foul glare before turning away, muttering to himself between the lines of _ignorant children _and _poorly respectable._

None of which I am.

**Kyrie Lowl (D5F, 17)**

Lilianna picks carefully at the lifeless blades of grass, enclosing her hand tightly around them as she peaks over my shoulder to take a look at the sketch. Letting the grass fall from her hand, she cues to the edge of the paper, muttering an inaudible suggestion.

With Reaping day looming over, Lilianna and I had decided to go off elsewhere to avoid the howls and cries from the younger children of the district. Lilianna's decision to spend our last few spare minutes by the doorsteps of her home proved to be less interesting by the second.

As she repeatedly stares in awe at my sketch, Lilianna continued to give suggestions, many of which I have no interest for at the moment. Lilianna has always known that I'm not big on accepting other's opinions, as I draw due to the muddled thoughts in my head.

None of which too stable for most of the critical citizens of District 5.

Lilianna scoffs, "You know what, Kyrie? You should really sketch out James Lando."

I only hardly note this, attempting to balance my focus on both my friend and on my current piece of art. Never looking up to face her, I simply ask, "Oh? Why is that?"

Lilianna's voice goes rigid. "Firstly, you can actually sketch people - more or less when you make them all bloody and mutilated and stuff. Second, James acts like an ass towards everyone. Don't you hate that?"

I shrug, "I don't know James too well. Until he pisses me off like most others, I don't care what he does. Just as long as he doesn't irritate me. Otherwise, he, along with almost everyone else, is dead to me."

Lilianna gives a laugh, staying silent towards this as she continues to pick at the grass. "It would be pretty nice to be able to skip the Reaping, you know. That way we wouldn't have to bother ourselves with preparation. It's not like we're going to get reaped anyway."

"True. This is your final year, so you only have to worry about this one Reaping. Then you can have no worries."

She rolls her eyes, "Fun. Just think about the Arena, though. District 5 isn't the poorest district. We could stand a chance."

I can only acknowledge this slightly, "And most of the tributes are brainless, you know."

This is correct, for many of the tributes never think their actions through. They simply act, regretting their moves later. Regret gets you killed in that Arena.

"They would be pretty smart to run the hell away from you, especially if they knew all about what you simply _draw." _

Putting away my pencil away, I glance at Lilianna. "We wouldn't have to worry about that, seeing as I only have two more years left of the Reaping."

**Aamir Harols (D9M, 16)**

"Then what happens?"

Luke Kenel stares up at me, crossing his arms as he continues to question the smallest things he has pondered over. Being a rather curious child, Luke has always come to me whenever he was dying to know the answers to basic life.

Even though he has come to visit often, I am always skeptical of Luke's reasoning to being present; he claims to be more entertained when around. Despite this, he rarely spends time with his own family.

I never mind it, but his questions can erupt rather impossible at times.

However, up until today, he has never asked anything that I consider almost eery to wonder, especially when going through a child's head.

"It's my first Reaping, Aamir," Luke pouts, "So I _need _to know. What happens if a tribute steps off the plate? Are they eliminated from the competition or what?"

_'More like eradicated from the Arena.'_

But I never gather up enough courage to tell the twelve-year-old this. Luckily for Luke, he is far too young to remember much from any of the past year Hunger Games, many of them including the tributes stepping off their plate before the sixty seconds are up.

With Luke's never-ending questions about the Games itself, I have been stumped numerous times. Like any kid, Luke seems to get ahead of himself with the questions, and he often believes I know all the answers.

Though I am both disappointed and please with being clueless to many answers, I am still disturbed with the thought of being unable to answer Luke's many questions unlike former years.

I never have lied to Luke, and now certainly wouldn't be the time to start with the Reaping only a short time away. He would be utterly perplexed by all the Peacekeepers.

"Aamir?"

I look at him slightly, "When a tribute steps off their plate..." At this time, I am unaware of what to explain. "They _are _eliminated from the competition, just not in an easy way."

"Oh," Luke tilts his head, "I'm happy I don't have to go in the Games then..."

I can only give him a half smile, unsure of whether of not he'll ever be forced into the Arena.

**Althaia Brookes (D12F, 17)**

"Not very useful now, are you?"

I watch as the bird's wing falls pathetically to its side, twitching ever so slightly. A quiet chirp erupts from the wounded creature as it eyes the petite rock by its body. A swift moment later, and the bird has strutted away from the fence.

But not before I have managed to collect another rock the size of my hand and have chucked it at the bird once more.

And the rock doves inches from my target, causing the startled bird to hobble faster as it attempts to take flight, only to be knocked back down by its crippled wing.

If I am going into the Games this year, there would be no chance of winning if I cannot even manage to hit a damned bird on the ground.

"That's not nice," Lila whimpers from my side, her dark eyes setting upon the injured bird. "You aren't supposed to do that with birds... You hurt him."

The small girl shifts around in her spot, taking in the view of the meadow barricaded behind the electrical fence. When looking into her eyes, I never catch a sight of longing for the wide open space. Instead, boldness is what I manage to gather from her frown.

I roll my eyes as a response to Lila's words. After all, I had never asked for the kid to join me; I was comfortable without the presence of another being.

Perhaps Lila knew this, and she had envied the thought of making herself a bother to me. She always has.

"You know it's wrong, what you are going to do at the Reaping." Lila's sweet voice goes cold. "But you don't care."

"How is it _wrong_?" I scoff, offended by her lack of support, even if I never have liked the kid. "When I volunteer, I'm saving someone that would have died in the Arena. District 12 _never _has victors, kid."

Lila shakes her head, her dark hair falling from her loose bun. "This is different, though. You don't care about saving a child's life."

"Right," I confirm, shrugging. "In truth, I do not give a damn for it. However, it looks nice. Perhaps I will obtain sponsors because of it."

"I'm not stupid," she says. "Sponsors are not the only reason you are volunteering. You and I both know that."

* * *

**A/N: I do not even know what to say anymore... I know I should have finished this long before now, though. I drew names randomly to choose what tributes appear in what chapters. That way, no one can say, "Oh, you hate my tribute. You did him/her last." Because quite frankly, noting pisses me off more than that. **

**So, the first three chapters will be introducing the tributes. I cannot stand writing in district order anymore, and reapings get so plain over and over again anyway, right? So the first chapter will be pre-Reaping. Second, preparing for the Reaping. Third, the Reaping. And goodbyes come after. Yes, thank you for all who submitted a tribute to this story; I appreciate you all. And I realize the first few chapters become so trite. But we all have to get through it, yes? I'll simply make it up come Arena time, and that's where the fun really begins.**

**Have a good day/night! And I promise better work in the next chapter...**

**-Sallen**


End file.
